


Coalescence

by Fulcrumisthebomb



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Spark Play, Spark Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:43:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/pseuds/Fulcrumisthebomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perceptor isn't sure where he stands with Drift when they reunite on the Lost Light; he is surprised and pleased to discover Drift wants to take things even further than before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coalescence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thoughtsdemise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/gifts).



> Commission fic & art for my amazing friend jenn-oddballpunk on tumblr!

There were enormous benefits to returning to a scientist role on the Lost Light. Most notably, Perceptor had sizeable free time now, as compared to his time with the Wreckers. Admittedly, that had been due to adjusting to a new social role and function and Perceptor had pushed himself too hard, by Drift’s own words. Without being put on front lines or in defensive positions, Perceptor found falling into his old routine easy and much more comfortable than he’d predicted.

Though it didn’t come without a price; when the Lost Light’s engines fritzed, answers were demanded and he was expected to supply them. And as the universe usually worked, one freak accident led to another, which led to more questions and double shifts.  
  
Perceptor was secretly thrilled to be valued for his intellect rather than physical abilities again, but with his schedule full, he found himself unusually weary after most shifts. He used his evenings to research new procedures and refresh his memory over a variety of subjects before slipping into recharge, often with a stack of data pads scattered across his berth.  
  
Thus, it was several megacycles before he managed to catch Drift and exchange more than a cursory greeting. Perceptor hadn’t seen his former partner and lover for what seems like vorns, and their last words had been hasty and shallow. Although Perceptor had set the pseudo-relationship aside as distance and time stretched between them, now that they were assigned to the same ship and had so many silent questions between them, he hadn’t made the time to invite the swordsmech in to ask them. Presumably Drift had been too distracted to do the same- he hoped, at least. The surprisingly gentle touches and heavy whispers they’d shared in the darkness of previous cycles had brought Perceptor out of his self-imposed life debt and fatalistic view of his function, and he knew his returned affection had lit a happiness within his lover that had shed light on the shadows of the chaotic spark.  
  
Drift, quite frankly, meant everything to Perceptor, and parting with him had easily scarred him just as badly as the nearly fatal shot to his spark chamber. And yet, there was an ancient streak of shyness that had resurfaced beside the comfortable scientific mindset. Every time he queued a message to Drift’s comm, he agonized over the wording until he eventually erased it, only to repeat the sad process again in a few cycles.  
  
His impotence to act was resolved quite suddenly, however, as he was ferrying a new collection of miscellany to his lab. Vision impaired, he was feeling his way down the hall when he barreled into another mech shorter than his mismatched stack of goods. The soft “Oof!” was immediately recognized and Perceptor’s spark felt like it was going to drip down to his pedes in shame.  
  
“Drift! I- I- am sorry,” Perceptor stuttered, carefully shifting the weight of his load so he could glance around it. Drift was staring up at him, helm tilted just so with an unreadable expression.  
  
“Percy.”  
  
Perceptor shivered; only Drift had ever spoken his name- and that ridiculous nickname- with such reverence. He swallowed thickly, frozen as he stared down into the beloved optics. “Drift,” he acknowledged quietly, unable to push anything else beyond his vocalizer.  
  
But, in a second, his silence didn’t matter as he found his arms full of shapely white mech instead of the random parts, which clattered to the floor just as warm lips sealed over his. Perceptor’s optics shuttered as the heat of familiar comfort suffused his spark; he gripped Drift’s neck and waist tightly, lifting the shorter mech so he could deepen the kiss. Drift was just as greedy, their dentae clinking as glossa met and twined, the wet contact making them both shudder. A hand nudged at Perceptor’s hip joint, stroking hidden wiring and he dragged Drift aside to lean against the wall for support.  
  
“Percy,” Drift panted against his mouth, his desperate grip tightening, “Percy.”  
  
Volumes were in the whispers of his name, sparking another full frame shiver as he nuzzled down Drift’s helm and lapped at neck cabling. The loud sigh vibrated the warm metal and Perceptor chuckled, pleased to momentarily forget anyone existed aboard the Lost Light but themselves.  
  
“Percy,” Drift breathed, arching when Perceptor squeezed his aft, “you still against fragging in a hallway or…?”  
  
“Yes,” Perceptor rumbled, laughing when Drift groaned in dismay. He straightened, pressing a soft kiss to the swordsmech’s chevron. “And I… Don’t you think we should talk first?”  
  
Drift’s nose wrinkled adorably, fingering the exhaust hoses at Perceptor’s sides. “I… don’t want to wait, but yeah. A lot’s happened since I- we…,”  
  
“Yes,” Perceptor replied soberly. “And while none of that will change the fact that I want you in my berth, shouldn’t we…?”  
  
Drift rolled a shoulder, a sure sign of irritation, before bending to gather the mess at their pedes. “I suppose that’s the Autobot thing to do.”  
  
“No,” Perceptor huffed in amusement, kneeling beside him to sweep a gathering of parts back into his hold. “I would suggest it’s the smart thing to do.”  
  
“That’s what I said.” Drift tilted his helm, glancing up with a sweet coy smile, and Perceptor’s spark threatened to implode. “So. Uh. Tonight? Your suite?” he added hopefully.  
  
Perceptor’s mouth twisted into a rare grin. “Please, yes.”  
  
\- - -  
  
Even with the memory of their stolen kisses earlier in the shift, Perceptor found himself unreasonably nervous as he waited in his habsuite for Drift to arrive. He had been one of the incredibly lucky passengers to be assigned a suite just to himself, though under the stipulation that half was filled with storage of delicate parts and bits of research they might find relevant on their ‘quest’. However, he doubted the limited space would matter; what was important was the privacy.  
  
Perceptor in-vented sharply, trying to quell another wave of anxiety. He’d spent the rest of his shift only partially devoted to his work; he’d created, edited and re-edited a list of key points to discuss with Drift later, then deleted it and begun another. He was on version 2.33b by the time his door pinged. Nearly falling off his perch on his workstation, he stumbled to the door and slammed a hand on the keypad to open it.   
  
Well. At least Drift looked as nervous as he felt.  
  
“I didn’t know if you had the same code,” Drift said with a forced grin. “I didn’t- uh- I didn’t know if I could-,”  
  
Perceptor’s smile faded as he stepped aside for Drift to enter. The thought that Drift felt he had to announce his presence was unsettling. The very idea felt abnormal, and yet he knew he would’ve done the same at Drift’s door. He shook off the melancholy and shut the door, locking it before pivoting- then laughed when he was attacked by long limbs and a warm mouth. Their fields overlapped easily, falling into a comfortable rhythm together.  
  
“Drift,” Perceptor murmured around the gentle kisses placed across his face. “Drift.”  
  
“Mmm?”  
  
He nuzzled the white chevron, smiling to himself. “I’ve missed saying your name.”  
  
Drift’s engine revved suddenly, vibrating Perceptor’s grip on his back. “Ohhh, I’ve missed hearing you say it,” Drift purred against an audial, sliding a thigh up one of Perceptor’s legs. “Missed your voice so much. I- haha!- Guess what I did.”  
  
None of this was on Perceptor’s list of urgent conversation, and that small thought thrilled him. Alone, he was structured numbers, predictable patterns. Drift mixed all his processes to unrecognizable, and he had grown to love the spontaneity. “What did you do?” he asked with mock trepidation.  
  
Drift’s grin widened. “Remember that report you sent to Ultra Magnus two cycles ago?”  
  
Perceptor tilted his head, recalling recent communications, then nodded. “My request for an exotic substance, neon. Swerve wants me to help him build a neon gas sign for his bar- though I regretted asking him what he wanted it to spell.”  
  
“Uh huh. Well…” Drift stretched to the tip of his pedes, wrapping his arms around Perceptor’s neck with a sly smile. “I made a copy of your request and listened to it on repeat. In my berth.”  
  
Perceptor frowned. “Why would you-,”  
  
“While I was shoving both hands between my plating and imagining they were yours,” Drift added, then tugged Perceptor down for another heated kiss.  
  
Perceptor could only mumble his surprise, optics wide as Drift bit at his lower lip. So, he hadn’t been the only one self-servicing during fevered dreaming; that was quite pleasing to note. Drift hadn’t lost any knowledge of his anatomy either, cleverly slipping his fingers along armour seams and the few hidden expanses of exposed wiring.   
  
In return, his hands were sliding over the long-memorised curves with reverent touches, worshiping the sensitive plating edges just below Drift’s aft, dangerously close to a small interface hatch, one of Perceptor’s favourites.  
  
“I brought high- high-grade,” Drift panted, quickly parting his thighs to let Perceptor’s hands roam freely. “Rewind said it’s the best vintage he’s seen in vorns.”  
  
“No,” Perceptor whispered, pausing to catch his partner’s gaze. “I don’t want anything between us.” He felt Drift tense uncomfortably under his touch, and he frowned as a strange hesitation crossed Drift’s face. “What is it?”  
  
“I’ll have some then,” Drift muttered, optics sliding to the side, but Perceptor tilted his chin up again.  
  
“Drift, did you understand what I said? I do not want artificial stimulants clouding our actions while we share our time together.” When Drift’s expression didn’t change, he continued with an encouraging smile. “I know you’re anxious- I am too, Drift. I know a lot has happened since we parted-,” he paused, optics narrowing briefly, “-such as you nearly dying without my permission.”  
  
Drift chuckled, biting his lip.  
  
“But I promise you, Drift,” Perceptor murmured, nuzzling their forehelms together, “I am still ‘Percy’, and I know you are still my Drift.”  
  
“...Aww.” Drift laughed again, wrapping his arms around Perceptor’s neck. “You really are a softspark, you know that?”  
  
Perceptor felt his faceplates heat, but he smiled at the light teasing. “I assure you, I become a mindless glitch only around you.”  
  
“So romantic.” Drift nipped at Perceptor’s chin, his grin fading quickly. “Percy, I- It’s not that, though. See, well, when I found out about Garrus 9, and I couldn’t reach you, I thought the worst. Of course.” He sighed, leaning in and resting his cheek against Perceptor’s chassis. “And during the time I thought you could be… gone, I was hit with this overwhelming regret for all the things I didn’t say, all the things I was too scared to do with you.”  
  
Perceptor’s curiosity perked, but he forcefully kept his mouth closed as Drift continued.  
  
“I’m still, uh, nervous- really nervous- about this idea, but I’m not so worried that I won’t bring it up. Not after you scared me like that,” he added with a playful slap.   
  
“And what about you nearly dying on me while you were off doing whatever it was you had to do?” Perceptor scowled, hugging Drift close. “It’s fortunate I found out about the incident afterwards; otherwise I- I- I don’t know. It would have been much worse.”  
  
“Yeah,” Drift muttered. “Should’ve been there on my end. Wasn’t fun.”  
  
“I’ll pass on the experience,” Perceptor returned wryly, stroking one of the white finials until it heated with pleasure. “And I mean that for all future encounters as well. Please don’t die on me.”  
  
“I’m trying my best not to,” Drift chuckled, some of the tension easing from his frame.   
  
There was a short silence, easy and comfortable this time as they shared reassuring touches. But Perceptor’s curiosity was building to a feverish peak, and he drew back enough to glance down at Drift with a wide smile. “So… What is this fantasy of yours? Or is it another sexual kink I am as yet unaware of? A preference, or situation you want to try with me?”  
  
Drift ex-vented harshly, stepping back to look up at Perceptor, his mouth set in a grim line. “I know it’s dangerous,” he began slowly, “and risky and- Well. I know all that, and if you don’t want to try it, of course I’ll understand.”  
  
Perceptor frowned, tilting his head. He and Drift had discussed and done some fairly strange things in the berth from time to time, but nothing that was inherently dangerous. They had both agreed to never hurt each other- neither of them enjoyed pain- so what would Drift consider to be worth such a risk? “As we always have, whatever it is, we’ll both explain and explore it safely,” he replied. “Drift, you mustn’t keep me in suspense. You know what it does to my thought processes.”  
  
“Yeah, sorry.” Drift was visibly agitated, and Perceptor rubbed at the back of the swordmech’s neck.  
  
“If it’s this troublesome to consider, perhaps we should simply discuss it and leave it at that?”  
  
Drift shrugged, optics dropping to focus on the broad adamantite chestplate. “Maybe. I- Percy, I wanna merge with you.”  
  
Perceptor waited for the addendum, but it never came. Once he realised Drift had finished, he cleared his vocaliser and set a hand on his shoulder. “You wish to perform a spark merge with me?”  
  
“I know, I know it’s crazy,” Drift huffed, rubbing at the back of his helm, optics skittering from Perceptor’s gaze. “And if you think it’s too dangerous, that’s- Well, I agree, I just…”  
  
“The offer is extremely flattering,” Perceptor replied honestly, his spark whirling in his chamber at the thought. “And yes, there is some risk, but Drift, where is this danger you speak of?”  
  
Drift blinked up at him, appearing startled. “It’s a spark merge,” he said flatly. “You should know all about how dangerous it is- I mean, you know everything about everything. Transference, permanent shift, discordance, energy disruption…” He waved a hand. “Pick any number of things that can go wrong.”  
  
Perceptor recognised most of those symptoms; they were pre-war myths, common amongst the poorer population, about how spark merges could have lingering uncomfortable or harmful effects. Though he’d never spent the time to trace the origin of the stories, he strongly suspected they had trickled down from the nobles to the lower classes and become skewed in the process. No wonder Drift looked so terrified- and yet even then, believing the lies, he still wanted to try it with Perceptor.   
  
His energy field flared pleasurably, overlapping Drift’s as he drew them both toward the berth. “Drift, I have thought of asking this of you as well, but there was a factor that prevented me from broaching the subject. Let me explain a few facts to you before we decide on this proposition.”  
  
“So.... That’s not a no?”   
  
“Exactly,” Perceptor nodded, pleased when a ghost of a smile crossed Drift’s face. He sat gingerly, enjoying the sight of Drift’s long limbs scrambling up to splay beside him. “Your education in this matter is lacking; once you have the facts, then we can both make an informed decision together.”  
  
Drift frowned in confusion, but remained silent, gesturing for Perceptor to continue.  
  
“What you’ve said about spark merges is not quite correct. There is a risk, most certainly, but not of the dangerous side effects you’ve been taught. The risk is of a true spark bond once the act is complete. The closest example of a spark bond would be Twin Twist and Topspin.”  
  
“But- Weren’t they were a split spark?”  
  
“Yes indeed. That is similar to how a spark bond functions,” Perceptor explained with a smile. “Depending on how in sync- literally- you both are, you will feel your bondmate’s emotions on either side of the spectrum. You will feel their happiness and acutely experience their pain. With time and distance, the bond could grow weaker; with dedicated nurturing, the bond will remain strong. It is a liability,” he added, narrowing his optic. “Especially during the war, when most of those rumours gained such popularity. However, managed properly, it can also have great benefits. Taken together, the bonded are a formidable team.”  
  
A comfortable silence fell after Perceptor ended, and he let Drift absorb the information as he rubbed at his back, soothing his hand over the worn nobbled backplates. A few times Drift opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut again as his optics stared unfocused past the opposite wall.  
  
“So do you always bond during a merge?” Drift finally asked, shifting to lean into Perceptor’s touch. “I’m assuming not?”  
  
“No, and there are inhibitor programs and disruptor subroutines that can be activated to lower the risk.” Perceptor rubbed at a white finial, grinning when Drift sighed and butted his helm into his hand. “The main reason I haven’t mentioned it before now is because our spark signatures are amazingly similar.”  
  
“Oh?” Drift’s helm tilted to glance up at him. “And that means…?”  
  
“Our sparks function on close frequencies,” Perceptor clarified. “Thus, the risk of bonding is much higher, as our sparks are already able to sync easily, given the chance. And you, Drift, are a warrior,” he added quietly, “and the unspoken laws of the war still apply. We are still drawn to danger and might spend unforeseen time apart.”  
  
“Wait.” Drift twisted, slinging a leg over Perceptor’s and settling in his lap, arms draped over the squared shoulders. “You’re telling me our sparks are almost the same?”  
  
Perceptor nodded, smiling at the odd expression. “I can send you the medical data, if you wish to see it.”  
  
Drift’s face scrunched into a strange frown. “But I’m- But you’re a noble.”  
  
“Yes,” Perceptor replied slowly, gently squeezing Drift’s waist. “The chance for a prewar noble and a-,”  
  
“Gutter mech,” Drift muttered.  
  
“-one of the lower castes to share a spark signature is random, but there are patterns within chaos. It is not surprising to me.”  
  
“Huh.” Drift’s optics shifted, his grip on Perceptor’s shoulders tightening. “So there really was something to all that talk about equality before the war.”  
  
“Of course there was, and still is,” Perceptor chided, pulling Drift close to press a kiss to his chevron. “How one uses their gifts and talents is what sets them along a moral path; not how they were created or any physical feature they may or may not possess.”  
  
Drift’s optics widened. “That’s…. not what I expected.”  
  
Perceptor huffed, shifting to lay back and pull Drift atop him. “We can theorise politics later. Would you like to further discuss spark merging?”  
  
Drift laughed, burying his face against Perceptor’s neck. “You say it so- so casually.”  
  
“I have experienced it a few times,” Perceptor admitted, frowning when Drift’s helm snapped up. “I am a scientist, Drift. I want to experience everything. I chose trustworthy and informed partners- all medics, who would be able to attend to either of us should something go awry. However, that-,” he drew one hand up, outlining a side of the reinforced shield resting over his spark chamber, “-that was a very long time ago, before the war. I had not had my chamber blasted open then.”  
  
“Oh. Yeah.” Drift tipped forward, kissing the shined glass, and Perceptor shivered at the reverent contact. “Is that gonna be a problem?”  
  
Perceptor wanted to deny it, but the words wouldn’t push past his vocaliser. He hadn’t thought this far ahead- hadn’t ever considered Drift would be receptive to such a vulnerable act- and the idea of baring his spark to open air gripped him with terror. Could he do that? Could he for Drift? Hazy memories of talented medic fingers playing his spark eased the panic somewhat, though Drift was no trained professional. Drift had implied he’d never engaged in this act before, so the risk of temporary or permanent damage was an unpleasant factor.  
  
“Hey, hey Percy, come back here with me,” Drift urged, petting the sides of Perceptor’s helm. “There’s no pressure. We don’t have to do anything we don’t want to, remember?”  
  
“Yes, I do,” Perceptor murmured. “I- I apologise. I had not-,”  
  
“No. No apologising. I didn’t even think about that, Percy,” Drift said awkwardly. “I mean, hell, I could see your spark when I dragged you out of Turmoil’s base. Had to keep you stuck to my side so you wouldn’t be exposed. Even though you were out, you’ve seen my memories of it and- it’s brutal. I know, Percy. I get it.”  
  
“You’ve seen my spark.” Perceptor blinked, surprised he hadn’t flagged that fact as important.

“Well, yeah,” Drift grinned, rubbing a hand over the protective glass. “And it’s gorgeous. It’s what got me thinking about merging, after we got close. I wanna see it again.”  
  
Though the medics who had humoured Perceptor in the past had been attentive and complimentary, none had displayed such awe for the act. And that was what sharply outlined the difference between his past experiences and this theoretical one with Drift. The medics had agreed for mutual pleasure; for Drift, it meant something deeper. What Perceptor had always hoped spark merging could be- a temporary melding of two individuals into one function.  
  
It was premature, but he pinged Drift the two inhibitor packets as he sighed and relaxed, his helm resting back against the berth. “With us both running the inhibitor programs, the chances of a spark bond is estimated at 31.5333 repeating percent. Extremely high, far beyond the norm, but I am more than willing to accept the risk and consequences. Regardless, help me with these clasps.”  
  
Drift sat up, surprised as he watched Perceptor claw at the edges of the shielded glass, tugging away the folding restraints that kept it in place. “The lower section is welded to my frame, but it will transform once loosened.”  
  
“Percy- I don’t know if I-,”  
  
“You wanted to see my spark again, yes?” Perceptor murmured, pausing to pet one of Drift’s thighs. “No matter what we decide tonight, I would like to submit to your request.”  
  
“Oh. Oh!” Drift leaned in, scrabbling at the sides of the glass to help remove it. “I didn’t think about just, uh, doing this. Are- Percy, are you sure?”  
  
“It is a frightening idea,” Perceptor replied slowly, shaking his head when Drift’s fingers stilled. “Only because of what happened in not-so-distant memory. I want to share myself with you, Drift, if you’re willing.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s it,” Drift mused, pulling at the last clasp. “That’s why I wanted to do this with you. I’m still scared of what could happen, but I’m not afraid to show you all of me anymore.”  
  
“Drift.” Perceptor reached up, one hand sliding gently up the transformation seam in Drift’s chassis, “I already know how beautiful you are, both your waking personality and your carefully hidden depths. May I see your spark, as well?”  
  
Drift froze, and Perceptor opened his mouth to hastily retract his request when he heard a series of soft noises grinding within Drift’s frame. A second later the seam he’d been stroking split apart with a soft hiss, a stream of light chasing a halo of shadows around them as Drift’s chamber opened.  
  
Perceptor attempted to make a flattering remark, but his vocaliser had seized. Drift’s spark was as vibrant and graceful as the mech himself- no surprise, but actually seeing Drift’s life force left him speechless. The long tendrils were a pure amber colour, weaving and coiling in an unending rhythm. Captivated, Perceptor’s hand was halfway lifted before he paused at Drift’s laughter.  
  
“I haven’t seen you look like that since Kup refurbished your lab,” Drift snorted, optics narrowed and shy. “It’s not as beautiful as yours, so don’t even try.”

Perceptor snorted, smile widening as he gently traced the edge of Drift’s chamber, careful to not let his fingers dip inside. “You cannot think that would deter me from telling you how… How just the sight of you has burned all complimentary speech from my consciousness.”

“Ha!” Drift’s grin was crooked, still awkward, but his optics had brightened happily. “You, speechless? Is that a first? Should I record this moment for posterity?”

“Absolutely,” Perceptor murmured, pleased when Drift’s face tilted down shyly. “I will relive this moment the rest of my life. Now, this clasp has stuck.” He huffed, eager for the first time to be rid of the protective shielding. “Likely from non use,” he added quietly, making a note to give attention to the area when detailed. The locking mechanism had disengaged, but probably had rusted slightly-

Drift’s strong grip yanked the clasp free, and a few seconds of whirring gears later the warrior’s face was bathed in a soft light. Perceptor remained quiet as Drift’s expression shifted, clearly awed by the sight; likely mirroring Perceptor’s own overwhelming emotional response a moment ago.

“Never seen a spark like yours,” Drift whispered, leaning down and biting his lip, hands hovering uncertainly over Perceptor’s spark.

“And how many sparks have you seen?” Perceptor teased.

Drift’s expression was shadowed as he glanced up briefly. “Extinguished plenty.”  
  
Perceptor swallowed, silently berating himself for not connecting the inference immediately. “And you believe mine is visually unique?” he asked, desperate to direct them from such memories.

“Definitely,” Drift replied, mouth slanting in a soft smile again.

Perceptor had seen his spark a fair few times; usually on a medical monitor, but he’d been curious enough to stare at himself in a mirror when younger. He knew what Drift was seeing, the whorls of bright red nearly overpowering the soft blue trails around the white core.

“Means you’re strong,” Drift continued, and Perceptor tilted his head to prompt him. “The colours, you know. You’re incredibly strong and resilient, with a curious driving force. It’s perfect, just like you.”  
  
Perceptor snorted; he knew there was an ancient tradition of ‘reading’ sparks, and it seemed Drift prescribed to the nonsense. However, he had learned early in their relationship to allow Drift his metaphysical tendencies- they were harmless, and gave Drift something to frame his understanding of the universe. “While I admit my spark is pleasing to the optics, I would not use such terminology to describe myself.” He dared to press one finger into Drift’s chamber, shivering when a tendril slid across it and sent a jolt up his arm- then stiffened when Drift grabbed his hand and slammed it to the berth.

“Drift- I-,” Drift’s expression was unreadable, half-hidden tilted into shadow. “I should’ve asked-,”  
  
“Not that.” Drift’s grin returned as he tugged both of Perceptor’s hands to his thighs, firmly pressing them there. “This is about what I want, and what I want is you laying there just like this. This is about me giving you something I’ve been too scared to say.”  
  
“I- Alright,” Perceptor agreed softly, squeezing the warm metal beneath his fingers.

“Stay there.”  
  
That commanding undertone was rare, but oh so delicious when Drift used it. “Understood.”

“Good.” Drift’s optics narrowed to slits with a decidedly evil glint. “If I do anything wrong, or it hurts, or you want to stop, what do you say?”  
  
“Swarm.” They had both agreed that was the most unlikely word to shout during interface; it instantly pinged to start battle routines, as it was now. Perceptor shut them down in annoyance and returned his attention to remaining still.

“Very good,” Drift purred, smoothing his hands over the edges of Perceptor’s chamber, fingertips flirting with the inner frame. Perceptor gasped as pleasure shot through an unfamiliar neural net, spreading warmth through his frame and making him arch. “Okay, this is a lot less scary than I’d imagined it,” Drift added with a chuckle. “So sensitive.”  
  
“Again, non use,” Perceptor panted, renewing his grip on the thick curves. “Do- Do not touch the inner brighter core, it causes moderate pain, but otherwise you are w- welcome to experiment.”  
  
Drift nodded, a serious slant to his mouth before he dove forward, the glow of his optics lost in the reflected light. Perceptor watched his lips move, obviously speaking, but all noise was drowned by the sudden rush of that secondary neural net flaring to life, blinding him with long-forgotten sensations.

The pleasure similarly matched those of his memories, but the knowledge that it was Drift’s own hands cradling his spark ratcheted it higher, far beyond anything he could remember. Nodes lit like fire across his frame, subsystems shutting down under the onslaught to bring all focus in on spark feedback. Vaguely he thought he shouldn’t be surprised at Drift’s unexpected skill, but he cried out in shock regardless.

Slowly Perceptor noted the absence of sensation, optics flickering on curiously when he felt hands sliding over his face. He hard-rebooted his audials when Drift’s mouth moved wordlessly above him.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Perceptor asked breathlessly.  
  
“I’m asking you that,” Drift replied in a rush, pawing at Perceptor’s helm. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”  
  
Perceptor loosed a short laugh, shaking his helm. “Yes, I am fine and no, you did not harm me. It was- It was a lot at once, that’s all. You’re very good at this.” He narrowed his optic, smirking up at his lover. “And you say you’ve never manipulated a spark before?”  
  
Drift’s face wrinkled, but the smile remained. “Not for pleasure,” he admitted with a huff. “Not heard you yell like that before unless I’ve broken something of yours.”

Perceptor laughed, sliding his hands up to squeeze the ribbed waist. “It may have been too much at once,” he mused. “I would suggest slower movements, and perhaps not quite so close to the core?”  
  
“You don’t want to stop?”  
  
“No!”

“Okay,” Drift nodded rapidly, then straightened with a sly grin. “So stop wiggling around and shut up. The only words I want outta you should be my name. And some begging. More of that yelling, too, that was... nice.”  
  
Perceptor briefly weighed replying, risking a promise of punishment, but decided to wait for next time. Though Drift was wearing confidence well, Perceptor could feel the trembling and hear the slight waver in the commands. Best to not push too far, too fast.

And the reward was incredible; Drift’s graceful fingers wove soundless music through his spark, playing it as finely as his swords, and Perceptor gladly obeyed his orders. Garbled pleas mixed with stutters of Drift’s name, his only movements arching to press closer to those marvelous hands and his hands breaking new dents in Drift’s hips. The pleasure quickly crested, even with Drift’s more cautious touches, and he knew he shouted just as his primary systems whited out.

Gradually Perceptor became aware; he could feel Drift laying curled into his side long before he could hear their synced vents, and eventually glanced down as his optics rebooted. Drift had his helm resting at the side of Perceptor’s chamber, lazily staring at his spark. Drift’s chamber was closed and Perceptor immediately regretted missing one last look at the beautiful corona. Though that likely wouldn’t be the last time he would see it, and the thought made him smile.

“Hey handsome,” Drift said quietly as Perceptor lightly rubbed down his backstruts. “You okay?”

“I have no memory of ever being more ‘okay’ than I am in this moment,” Perceptor sighed, dropping his helm back to the berth.

“Exactly how I feel.” Drift peeked up at him with a shy smile. “That was- so much better than I’d imagined. Maybe next time we could… y’know.”

“Merge? Yes,” Perceptor yawned. “Were I not overworked, I would agree to it this moment. Later, Drift, I promise.”

Drift sighed happyily, curling closer. “Could we stay like this for a bit? I just want to watch you.”

“Only if you do not mind if I drop into recharge,” Perceptor rumbled, chuckling with Drift squeezed him in a rough hug.

“I’ll guard you,” Drift replied seriously, placing a hand protectively at the side of the open chamber. “If I feel like dropping off, I’ll close you up.”

“Wonderful,” Perceptor replied sleepily, venting slowly as his frame relaxed into the strong sense of security, processors drifting easily into recharge.

 


End file.
